


Endless

by magalix3



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 16:55:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8021761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magalix3/pseuds/magalix3
Summary: Forever comes to an end a lot sooner than Jackson had expected and his girlfriend leaves after a messy breakup. Mark, Jackson’s best friend, is there for him. And he always will be.





	1. Endless

**Author's Note:**

> side pairings: Jaebum/Jinyoung & Yugyeom/Bambam

As he paces, waiting, that disgusting, sinking feeling in his chest burns down his esophagus, boiling in his stomach. It crawls back up his throat and makes his tongue heavy. Makes his mouth dry. Chaps his lips. And from his stomach the feeling curled into the tips of his fingers, his toes, burning deeply into his muscles.

After the first hour, after no texts or calls, rage fuels his resolve and he’s past waiting and moping. 

There were some suitcases tucked underneath their beds, suitcases that they used on their trip to China for their third year anniversary. It was the suitcases they were going to use for their Grand Canyon trip this upcoming spring, but Jackson dumps out all the shit from inside them; photo albums, souvenirs, birthday cards, winter clothes tucked away for the season. She could keep her shit. She could keep all the bullshit memories. She could take all the things that made what was once a strong foundation for a lasting relationship, and shove it up her ass.

There weren’t enough suitcases in the world to pack her shirts and jeans. And you can forget about her shoes and dresses. Most of which, by the way, Jackson had bought for her, because her feminine personality and love for pink was what hooked Jackson in the first place. And the way she swayed her hips when she wore heels? Unresistable.

All her make-up, expensive foundations, highlighter, shimmery lipsticks that Jackson had delighted to smear with heavy kisses, fit into a few old shoe boxes. All the Vitamin Water’s in the fridge and those nasty protein bars she stoked up in the cupboards went into a bag. All the photos of them together, with their families on holidays, or just the two of them on vacations, fit perfectly into the trash.

By the time she got home, there was a nice, neatly organized pile of all her shit, right by the front door.

At first she looked like she was going to cry, pouting in the way that broke Jackson’s heart every time. Even now. Even though already shattered, his heart became heavy, telling him _you can work this out._ His brain promptly responded, _shut the fuck up._

Their eyes met and she saw the momentary remorse in her boyfriend’s eyes. But Jackson quickly tried to sweep it under the rug. 

“So this is it?” Her voice coated with animosity. A tone that was too rare between them. The force of it alone sent a momentary shock through Jackson’s system, like he didn’t know what to do or how to feel. He’d never been in a situation where he was on the receiving end of that tone and he knew her all too well to know it shouldn’t be taken lightly.

But she waited as the anger took back over, and he was grinding his teeth. “This is it. I want you out.”

She tried to study him, tried to catch a glimpse of what he was hiding behind that wall he projected before him. There was nothing there for her to see though, and a rage unlike anything she had felt before took over. She closes the door behind her and stepped in, trying to shield the neighbors as best she could.

“You pushed me away.”

A full, bitter bubble of laughter doubles out of Jackson’s mouth.

“ _Me_? Are you trying, right now, to tell me that _I’m_ the one that fucked up?”

“This has been over for a while, and you’re only now seeing it?” She says, pointing in his direction. “I can’t believe _you’re_ upset right now. When was the last time you kissed me? When was the last time you said you loved me?”

“I’m working. I’m studying. C’mon, Ali, I can’t believe you’d pull this shit on me right now. I don’t have time!”

“Wow.” Alison laughs acerbically, throwing her hands in the air. “This went a lot easier than I thought it would. That’s _exactly_ the problem. You don’t have fuckin’ time. Not for your girlfriend, not even for your own family. Your mother calls me looking for you.”

Jackson tries to keep his walls up, but she’s bulldozing right the fuck through them.

“You need to take better care of yourself. Take better care of your health, your mother. She’s worried sick about you. You’re pushing everyone away, not just me, and soon you’re gonna be alone if you keep this up.” Alison picks up her purse and swings the door open. “I’ll be back in a little bit to get my things.”

 

Jackson has plenty of friends. He’s not alone. What a load of bullshit.

Later though, when Alison and all her things have been gone for hours and he still can’t get himself to move out of bed, he realizes how true this statement is. He’s got loads of fun photos on Facebook, more followers on Instagram than most of his other friends, and he’s got way too many conversations going on Snapchat because his friends think his are the funniest, Jackson realizes that Alison’s right. All these texts, all these friend invites, and Jackson isn’t sure there’s anyone he would feel comfortable texting right now.

Until he spots an all too familiar name on his friends’ list. A guy in his British Lit class. A guy he’s embarrassedly poured his heart out to more than once.

Mark has always been a good guy. A good friend. Sincere and welcoming despite a sometimes stoic demeanor. But he and Jackson have been friends since senior year in high school, the kind of friends that mostly text, send each other stupid memes and grab coffee together after long weeks to mostly talk about their favorite television shows.

It’s way to awkward though when the sound of Mark’s voice gives Jackson that comfort that he’s _craving_. Mark sounds pretty excited that he called even though it’s past midnight. Mark isn’t the type to stay up this late unless he’s studying. Jackson knows this because once in high school he passed out at promptly nine-thirty when he was over the Wang’s studying for finals. Jackson knows this because only a few weeks ago, Jackson managed to drag Mark to a party, and he left at eleven on the nose to go take a nap in the car.

Jackson’s never had a best friend, but when Mark stops the world to rush nearly twenty minutes to his apartment, still in his pajamas to crash into bed and _hug_ him like he’s trying to hold together the broken pieces, Jackson realises that he has a best friend. Mark is his best friend. Not Alison, not Jaebum, the super chill, super cool guy that lives upstairs and has gotten Jackson out of a few pinches, but Mark.

And he realises, as Mark rubs the back of his head and gently rocks him, not caring that Jackson’s sobbing like a child into his chest, he’s going to be alright.

**\--------------------**

Mark spends the night, sleeps on the couch and borrows Jackson’s clothes when he has to leave for work in the morning. First he makes breakfast, pancakes with strawberries and Jackson tries to mope when he eats them. They’re too tasty to pretend to not enjoy them.

Mark gets back around dinner time with a small suitcase at his side. It was never discussed that he would spend the night, never discussed that he and Jackson were close enough that it’d be okay to assume it was okay. But there’s a flutter in his chest when he sees Mark’s beautifully brilliant smile and a few changes of clothes. Mark cares, and that’s all Jackson needs right now.

“Did you eat?”

“Yeah, pancakes.”

Dusk has settled into the apartment, an orange and pink light dusting the bleakness of the room. There are outlines on the walls where photos were hung, awkwardly vacant shelves around the apartment. Jackson doesn’t know what he should keep and what he should get rid of, because there wasn’t a _mine_ and _hers_ , everything was _theirs_. Even his clothes; either she bought them for him, or she was there for the purchase, or she was borrowing them and wearing them.

The apartment isn’t very large, one bedroom and a kitchen and a livingroom. A perfect size for two people trying to start forever together. It seems vast now, endless, but suffocating. Mark’s presence alleviates the tension as he moves around the room. 

“Do you wanna watch something?” He turns on the lights, opens the blinds, opens the curtain. Then he searches around for the remote. It’s lost in the couch cushions, and he makes a mess trying to pull them out. Instead of placing the cushions back, he places them side by side on the floor and sits down on them, stretching his legs out. Jackson moves next to him when the spot besides Mark is offered to him.

They turn on the television and watch the Food Network for a little while. Mark doesn’t push it, doesn’t force conversation.

Jackson speaks up first, “How was work?” and it’s mundane, but Mark goes with it. He talks about his co-workers, about funny stories from lunch break, about this one customer that broke his balls for almost forty-five minutes.

“I could’ve killed her.” Mark mumbles with such a darkness that it surprises Jackson and he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to try and soothe him, or laugh along with him. 

It’s just a part-time job, something to help him get through college, so Jackson tells him, “Retail sucks.”

“Retail _really_ fuckin’ sucks.” Mark agrees, looking away from the television. “Did you go to class today?”

Jackson shakes his head, sighing deeply. “I couldn’t even get myself to change out of my pj’s.” He motions towards his Batman printed pants. “And I ate all the pancakes.”

Mark pauses. “You ate _all_ the pancakes?”

“...Yes.” Comes the small, ashamed reply.

“I made two batches!” Mark’s laughing, throwing his head back, slightly impressed. “That’s a hell of a lot of pancakes, I can’t believe you.”

Jackson smiles and laughs along with him. “Sorry. I didn’t leave any for you.”

“That’s okay.”

“I kinda want more pancakes though.”

“It’s dinner time, I want pizza.”

“I want pancakes.”

Mark looks at Jackson, and finds that he can’t resist that pout. “ _Fine_ , I’ll make more pancakes.”

And Jackson throws his hands in their with a triumphant shout, following Mark to the kitchen. “What’s your secret? What makes your pancakes so good?”

Mark shrugs. “Cinnamon?”

Jackson’s himself again when they’re in the kitchen together, when he’s accidentally dropping a cup of flour all over the floor and Mark is torn between laughing and yelling, making a noise that’s a comical mix of both.

Jackson latches onto him around the waist and between peals of laughter, tries to apologise. But there’s flour all over him and it’s flying through the air like dust. It’s getting all over their clothes -- correction: all over Jackson’s clothes because Mark hasn’t changed yet, and they’re a little big on him but it’s okay. He looks cute. 

“You’re cleaning this up.” Mark announces, socks slipping on the flour. He finds the broom in the closet and treks flour through the apartment. “You’re cleaning all this up.”

Jackson throws his head back to laugh but slides over the mess lands on his ass. Mark laughs at his expense.

**\--------------------**

It doesn’t take long before they learn how to orbit around one another. It becomes natural,, the way they move around one another when scurrying to get ready for classes or work. The way they cook together in the small kitchen, or brush their teeth side by side in the bathroom, talking around their toothbrushes and laughing like idiots. They begin sharing the little things: shaving cream, hair brushes, socks, sweatshirts. And then it comes time to pay rent and Mark’s offering some money because he’s practically living here and his roommates at his own apartment have been kind enough to foot his portion of the rent. They’re not going to make him pay if he’s not around so he’s got some extra cash to float in Jackson’s direction. 

Jackson really needs it, he’s a broke college kid and Alison had covered a large portion of the rent payment, but he can’t get himself to accept Mark’s money.

It’s then that Mark offers, “Why don’t you come live me, Youngjae and Jinyoung?”

At first it seems preposterous, he doesn’t even know Youngjae or Jinyoung and it’d be awkward considering the circumstances. He’s going through a breakup and can’t afford the bills. He’s going through a breakup and Mark’s been his pillar, his safety, his sanity, his long laughs and deep sleeps. 

“Maybe you should go back. I’ll be fine.” Jackson says, smiling brightly despite the turmoil in his body.

Mark shakes his head, curling his fingers around Jackson’s wrist -- another normality between them. Platonic touches, lingering hands, a pull that brings them to each other’s sides when they’re in the same room.

“Dude, you’re sleeping on the couch and I can’t cook for shit.” Mark smiles at that because it’s true, Jackson’s a terrible cook. “I mean, I thought you’d be here for a few nights, maybe just the weekend, y’know? But you’ve got your friends and --”

“They don’t hate you.” Mark’s reading between the lines. Either he's really good at reading people or Jackson’s an open book. Because he didn't think his thoughts were so public. “They’re not judging you. You’re going through a tough time right now and that’s okay. Just move in with us.”

The real reason Mark knows exactly what the other boy’s thinking is that they've become so accustomed to each other in such a short time. Paired with a previous, even if distant at times, friendship, this causality between them is natural. It's turned into a sort of co-dependence, Jackson can’t do this without Mark. Mark’s kindness, warmth, friendship, is endless.

“Well, my mom’s coming this weekend, so maybe we’ll talk about it. After the weekend.”

Mark smiles and it crinkles his whole face. “You called her back? Finally?”

“Yeah, if that’s fine with you, of course.” Jackson reels back immediately. It’s been over a week since these plans were made and he forgot to tell his roommate. He’s been so busy, his head floating behind him as he runs around that he forgot to give Mark the update.

“Why wouldn’t it be? She’s been calling you every day since I got here. I’m so glad that you finally called her.”

Mark gets closer and hugs him like they always do. A full, warm embrace. He doesn’t care that he wasn’t informed of their house guest. He understands that Jackson’s busy.

“I’m _so_ glad.”

Jackson’s heart wrenches and he’s not sure why, but the tears come. And Mark continues to hold him.

**\--------------------**

Mark offers to go to the airport to pick up Jackson’s mother. At first Jackson tells him it’s no big deal, he can do it, but he’s so excited he’s jittery like he’s had too much espresso. Mark takes the car keys from him and forbids him from even getting behind the wheel.

Jackson’s pretty fucking _elated_. He sings along to the radio at some points, worries if the apartment is clean enough, will his mother think he lives in a pig-sty? Did they buy enough food to fill the fridge? He doesn’t want his mother to fly in for too many hours all the way from China just to worry about her son.

“You’re worried about disappointing her now? Even though you’ve blown her off for the past month and a half?”

Mark’s comment is brutal, and even he’s a little shaken by it. Jackson stares at him, eyes wide and words lost. But Mark apologises quickly, “Shit, sorry, I think I’m nervous.”

“What’re you nervous about?”

“I don’t know, meeting your mom?” 

Mark runs his hands through his blond hair, shaking his head and keeping one hand tightly gripped around the steering wheel. He apologises again, and again, and Jackson tries to tell him it’s alright. But now he’s feeling a little unsettled. Kind of like when Alison met his mother for the first time. He’s introducing two very important people in his life and they _have_ to like each other, because he doesn’t know what he’d do if his mother didn’t like Mark. Or if Mark didn’t like his mother. What does he do? What does he do then? How can he continue to live if the two most perfect people in his life don’t want to be involved?

His yells in anguish are so sudden that Mark nearly jerks the car into another lane. “What?! What is it?!”

“What if she doesn’t _like_ you?” Jackson wails, deeply troubled, leaning forward and touching his head to his knees. He doesn’t notice the way Mark frowns. Doesn’t notice the way Mark rubs at his face. Doesn’t notice the deep breaths he takes all the way to LAX, or the way his knuckles are white around the steering wheel.

Jackson does notice something is off when Mark’s jittery as they wait in the arrival hall. He can’t stand in one place for too long, buys three donuts from a near-by stand and eats them all himself without offering one. Jackson reaches for his hand and tangles their fingers and Mark ducks his head but the redness from his cheeks seeps into the tips of his ears.

“She’s gonna like you. Seriously, I don’t even know why I thought of it. You’re perfect, she’s perfect. It’ll be perfect.” Jackson assures, grinning. Mark glances at him and searches Jackson’s eyes, his smile, dissecting the tone of his voice. It’s hard to tell what he’s looking for though, but he doesn’t seem too pleased.

Zhang comes from the arrival hall and Mark waits patiently as Jackson apologises in rapid-fire Chinese that’s he’s sorry for worrying her, sorry for being burdensome. The break-up had knocked him off his feet in all ways emotionally, mentally and financially. He’s been tumbling this whole month, Mark being the only barrier he’s got between breaking into a freefall and landing in a pit. 

He doesn’t seem satisfied as she tells him it’s okay, and inspects him to make sure he’s eating well, taking care of his teeth, his hair. She inspects his hands and smiles. 

Mark waits until their moment is over, afraid to interrupt the long time coming mother and son moment. 

There are many similarities between Jackson and his mother. Mark sees love and compassion in her eyes. She grins and pulls Mark in for a hug. 

“Ah, my son has said so much about you.”

Mark glances at Jackson, who’s still beaming. Possibly crying.

“He’s said such wonderful, wonderful things about you. Thank you for everything you do.”

Mark’s Chinese isn’t the best, mostly conversational since his parents only spoke it at home, but he replies fluidly in Chinese despite the hammering in his heart and the nervousness confining his chest. Zhang grins at him and pats his shaky hands. She rubs his arm and he quickly takes her things, trailing behind as they walk back out to the car, Jackson with both arms wrapped around his mother’s small shoulders.

**\--------------------**

Jackson nearly throws a tantrum when he finds out that his mother booked a hotel for her two-week stay. Mark quietly ignores the conversation from the other room, hoping that this family argument stays in the living room without moving to the kitchen.

However, Jackson’s booming voice (how to the neighbors not complain?) is behind him before he can even finish to hope for ignorance.

“Dude! Tell my mom she’s more than welcome to stay!”

Mark stops chopping the celery and glances over his shoulder. Jackson’s cheeks are red and his hair is greasy. Determination is steeled on his face and his stance is tall, squared, like he’s not giving Mark any other option.

“Why wouldn’t she stay? LA hotels are way too expensive.” He responds evenly, turning back to dinner.

Zhang sighs loudly and rolls her eyes. “I will not allow my son to sleep on the couch.”

“It’s fine it turns into a bed. It’s a futon.” Jackson argues, pulling apart the sofa and shoving everything else aside so he can prove his point. Mark’s got his back and he’s feeling more confident.

“That can’t be good for your back.” Zhang argues and Mark turns at this point, sincerely cutting in.

“It’s comfortable, really, I don’t have any problems.”

Zhang nearly doubles over at the news and turns on her son with such a fury that Jackson’s resolve dies in his throat. Mark winces in fear and turns back to dinner prep. But he can still hear her offended shrieking since she’s only a few feet away.

“You’re telling me that this lovely young man has been sleeping on the couch?! I raised you better than that! I thought you were sleeping together in the bedroom!”

Mark nearly cops his fucking finger off.

“What kind of -- this is _absurd!_ After everything he’s done for you! You couldn’t even offer him the space? The bed is plenty big enough for two!”

Mark glances over his shoulder and Jackson’s staring at him, looking for help but Mark has nothing to offer. Then Zhang turns around and unleashes Mama Wang’s fury on him, too. Mark’s not sure why he’s being punished, but she’s clearly not happy that he’s settled for such “injustice.”

“Tonight, I’m sleeping at the hotel. Mark?”

He straightens his shoulders. “Yes?”

“You’re sleeping on the bed. Jackson?”

“Yes, mom?”

“You’re sleeping on the couch.”

**\--------------------**

Mark wakes up in the morning with Zhang gently rubbing his back. “Honey, are you awake?” He groans and buries his face in the pillows, and she continues speaking. “Did you sleep well?”

Zhang gently pats down his bed head and smiles. His unruly hair and clear eyes is all the proof she needs of a good night’s sleep. “I made breakfast. Come eat.”

The food reminds Mark of his own mother, and he sends her a text message after breakfast. It’s been awhile since he’d had a chance to talk to his own family, and seeing the way Jackson is with Zhang, he’s missing them a little more than usual. But just like Jackson, his daily schedule is packed.

The daily itinerary is a long one, full of attractions and good food and all the best stops of LA. Zhang insists that Mark accompany them. Jackson gets so excited at the idea that he links elbows with the blond and Mark has to avoid Zhang’s gaze. 

In the hallway they bump into Jaebum, Jackson’s friend that lives upstairs. He’s on his way out for the day as well, and his smile and beautiful skin stuns Mark. He kind of hopes Jaebum will tag along too, this situation with Jackson and Zhang is making him stupidly nervous. He's getting so involved in Jackson's life and spending a day just the three of them is very personal.

But Jaebum can't tag along he has class to get to. Mark sighs and clasps his hands together.

 

Later, as they separate in the mall food court, as Jackson and his mother go in line to order food and Mark searches for an empty table to claim as theirs, Zhang takes her son’s hand in hers.

“Mark is one of the best things that’s happened to you in a long time. I really like him, honey.”

Jackson doesn’t get the underlying tone. He grins and responds, “Mark’s my best friend.”

“Have you considered his offer? To live with him and his friends?”

Jackson shrugs. “I dunno, it’d be nice, I got so used to him being there that it’d be weird without him, you know? Like, what was my life like before Mark? I don’t even know.”

Not a single thought strays to Alison. You can tell by the stupid smile on his face. The daze in his eyes.

Zhang remembers the way the two sleepy boys leaned against each other when they brushed their teeth that morning and smiles. She thinks of the way Mark blushed when they met Jaebum in the hall.

“What’s important is you two are together now.”

**\--------------------**

With finals coming up and holidays around the corner, Mark tries really hard to balance studying, classes, work, and quality time with Jackson and his mother. But Jackson’s having a hard time balancing it, too. Zhang is too proud of her two hardworking boys (she called Mark her own by the end of the first week) that she’s not even upset that they’re busy. She cooks dinner while the boys bury themselves under notecards and a plethora of highlighters.

Mark color codes his notes and Jackson highlights key phrases. They’re sitting on opposite ends of the bed, studying for their British Literature final together.

Jackson’s throwing out random words, he doesn’t know the answer. 

“It’s pink.” Is Mark’s clue. Burden only weighs on Jackson more. 

“I don’t remember what pink means.” Jackson pulls the comforter over his head and hides in it. “What does pink mean?”

So Mark repeats the question, “What is the main theme of The Wife of Bath’s Prologue?”

“I don’t remember.” Is the defeated reply. “I didn’t read it.”

Mark grabs his copy of the Canterbury Tales and throws it at the mass of blanket that Jackson hides underneath. He yells, scandalized, and takes his fortress of blankets towards Mark. Mark grips the notecards, refusing to back down without a fight.

All that resolve is gone in a matter of seconds. Mark’s frozen to his spot as Jackson gets between his legs, between his arms, and rests against him, chest to back. The comforter between them serves as a nice barrier from Mark’s palpitating heart.

Jackson snatches the notecard from Mark’s lax fingers and reads the answer. “Bro, I’m so screwed for this final.”

“You should read it.”

“Read it to me!” Jackson reaches for the book and is back in the same spot, resting his torso against Mark’s, Mark’s legs open around him. It’s intimate, but it’s not. It’s cozy, but it’s uncomfortable.

Mark takes the book, resting his arms over Jackson’s shoulders, the book held in the air in front of him. The words spin and he takes so long to collect himself that Jackson begins to worry. Then Mark starts reading and Jackson smiles, settling against his chest again.

**\--------------------**

Jackson moves in with Mark, Youngjae and Jinyoung as soon as finals are over and his mother is safe at home back in China. Jaebum, being a sweet neighbor when he sees Jackson is moving out of the complex, offers a helping hand. Having five men move an apartment is much easier than four, even if the difference is only one.

When Jackson’s making his last rounds, making sure there’s nothing left, he pulls open the cabinet in the bathroom, the one that Alison mostly used to store her things. There’s an unused bottle of bodywash and a plastic tin full of bobby pins. Jackson freezes, feelings that he hadn’t had time to process in nearly two months, comes flooding in like water through a broken dam.

Mark finds him kneeling in the bathroom before the sink, staring into the cabinet.

“Throw it out.” Mark says, grabbing the garbage can. He wants this to be done and over with almost as much as Jackson does.

But Jackson’s still overwhelmed, “She cheated on me. She was hooking up with her coworker.”

“She’s a bitch.” Mark replies sternly. “C’mon, man, just throw her shit out.”

He gets impatient waiting for Jackson to make a move, so he kneels by his side and just as he’s reaching under the sink for Alison’s forgotten things, Jackson’s feelings come tumbling out of his mouth.

“What did I do?”

Mark stops, his fingers touching the container of body wash. “What?”

“What did I do to make her stop loving me?”

If Jackson doesn’t cry, Mark will. If Jackson does cry, Mark will, too. Conclusion: Mark’s gonna cry. 

He kneels besides Jackson and takes his face in his hands, looking him directly in the eye. All the anger he feels is gone by the time he falls into the dark sadness of Jackson’s eyes.

“What did I do to make her cheat?”

“Sometimes…” Mark’s at a loss, trying to take his feelings and make sense of the mess in his heart. “Sometimes people grow apart and that’s not on you. That’s not your fault. You came in last year so headstrong, man, and things got complicated. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault that your lives didn’t align anymore.”

Mark remembers Jackson from high school, and even though they weren’t the closest or the best of buds, Jackson’s changed a lot since then. The once bright-eyed, ball of energy has matured. He’s still got the energy of a toddler, but real life and college are weighing him down. If Alison can’t support that, then fuck her.

Jackson’s hands tangle in his hair. When Mark places a hand on his shoulder he leans into it, and Mark’s holding him. Jackson’s not crying though. His breathing is tense, strained, but he’s okay.

“It’s just weird. We talked about forever. I believed it.”

“You still have forever ahead of _yourself_ , with or without her.” Mark says, closing his eyes and burying his face in Jackson’s dark hair. He tries not to cry, but the tears sting behind his eyelids.

They sit on the bathroom floor until Jackson’s ready to let go. He takes the bobby pins and the body wash and dumps it into the plastic pail. Mark smiles and rubs his back, following him out of the bathroom and out of the apartment, leaving Alison’s things behind in the garbage.

 

**\--------------------**

Mark, Youngjae and Jinyoung rent out a three bedroom apartment, so, naturally, Jackson rooms with Mark. 

The other two are super welcoming, and Youngjae’s fucking stoked because now they have four people to play Mario Kart. Jinyoung’s stoked about the extra money in his pocket each month. And like any other college student, he tucks a little away into a very bleak savings account, and blows the rest of it on alcohol.

It’s the week before Christmas, only a few days before they all separate for the holidays and go back to their families for two weeks, and with the next day off and a boatload of alcohol to drink, they get drunk and fail at Mario Kart.

Jinyoung’s kind of a lightweight (and you can forget about Youngjae he’s gone after like 2 beers) and he’s giggling as his Yoshi flies off the track on Rainbow Road for the… thousandth time. He’s in last place.

“Hey, you know what we should do?” He’s so far behind that Jackson’s Princess Peach flies past him, lapping Yoshi.

“What?” Younjae asks, somehow kicking everyone else’s ass even though he’s plastered.

“We should invite Jaebum.”

They had only met him once, a weekend ago when Jackson had moved in, but Jinyoung hasn’t shut up about Jaebum’s flawless fucking skin and his pretty eyes. Mark’s kind of sick of hearing about it. But he doesn’t blame him, Jaebum is handsome. And has a nice laugh. He gets it.

Jackson reaches for his phone. “Yeah, call ‘im.”

“How about Bambam?” Youngjae says, flying through the finish line in second place. Mark lands third and Jinyoung’s still a lap behind. Princess Peach has also been left behind now that Jackson’s discarded the controller to call his friend over.

“What’s a Bambam?” If anyone’s not going to let Youngjae be ignored, it’s Mark. 

“He lives next door.” Jinyoung explains, suddenly kicking Yoshi into high gear. “Him and his boyfriend, Yugyeom. They moved in, like, the weekend before Jackson.”

Jackson, having successfully texted the address to Jaebum, turns to look at the others. He doesn’t say anything, but the word ‘boyfriend’ had been what caught his attention. Jinyoung’s too gleeful that Jaebum’s on his way, distracting everyone.

“He’s so _hot_. I’m glad he’s coming, when’s he gonna get here?”

Youngjae agrees, probably with the ‘Jaebum’s hot’ statement, but it’s not really too clear. He’s taking Jackson’s controller so Princess Peach can pass the finish line and they can progress to a new race. 

Jackson’s gaze slowly falls on Mark, who pointedly ignores him and takes a long swig of his beer. He’s connecting the dots. But he’s not sure what dots to connect with Mark. 

It’s the beer acting out, pointing a crooked finger at Jinyoung and asking, “Oh, you’re…?”

Jinyoung just smiles at him, eyes crinkling. Youngjae nods fiercely.

“Both of you?”

Mark tries to see Jackson’s expression from the corner of his eye, trying to be discreet. Maybe he should’ve warned _straight_ boy Jackson about _not straight_ Mark’s living situation; his _not straight_ roommates. But this is something he didn’t think would be a problem up until this very moment, when it possibly could turn into something ugly. 

There’s a knock on the door and Youngjae dances to it. He swings it open and sloppily introduces Bambam and Yugyeom, two stylish boys with an adorable height difference. 

Bambam sits in Yugyeom’s lap and takes Jinyoung’s controller. Youngjae grins and readies himself. Finally, a worthy opponent.

Jackson seems to be taking it well, he doesn’t blink twice in the boyfriends’ direction and seems pretty relaxed.

“You know what they say!” Jinyoung announces suddenly, speaking out from probably a mental conversation he was having with himself. “Birds of a feather flock together. Peas in a pod! Um… Yeah.” And he claps a hand on Mark’s shoulder, causing him to sputter is beer everywhere.

Mark’s eyes briefly meet with Jackson’s and he’s looking a little less… relaxed. He doesn’t take the time to try and process Jackson’s internal dialogue, he’s usually so good at it. He’s too afraid of what he could find. He’s not ready to deal with it. But Jackson’s arm doesn’t move from around his shoulder. Jackson doesn’t shy away. Just silently accepts that he’s the only straight guy in the whole room. That’s what Mark assumes, because it’s the best outcome. Because Jackson is an accepting, open, honest sweetheart. 

Jaebum knocks on the door then and Jinyoung squeals, rushing to let him in.

**\--------------------**

Mark and Youngjae bump heads as they have simultaneous hangovers in the toilet the next morning. Jinyoung laughs and calls it a bonding experience. Jackson rushes in then, shoving between them to throw up.

Jinyoung’s gaze narrows and he focuses on the back of Mark’s head. “ _Bonding_.” He reiterates.

Mark glares at him over his shoulder and Jinyoung laughs, full and _pleased_ when Jackson slumps against Mark, arms searching for purchase on his waist. Mark tries not to throw up all over Jackson. He’s feeling nauseous because of the hangover and because he’s got fucking _feelings_ for the boy pressed against his shoulder right now.

And now this boy knows that he’s interested in boys.

Mark pushes Jackson off so he can throw up again.

**\--------------------**

When Jackson goes off to visit his mother for the holiday break, as soon as his feet land on Chinese soil, the first thing she does is ask about Mark. How did his finals go? Did he get the grades he wanted? Is he seeing his family for the holidays? And Jackson talks about Mark because he _loves_ to. It even slips that Jackson’s a little confused on Mark’s orientation. It’s not _important_ , but it’s a part of who he is and Jackson’s gotten cold feet every time he meant to bring it up. It explains why Mark hasn’t been on a date for as long as they’ve known each other. Or that he’s been hiding his dates.

Zhang rubs her son’s shoulders. “Oh, honey, I could’ve told you he likes boys.” 

Jackson doesn’t push it, but it’s the first time in forever that he can’t figure out what his mom’s thinking.

But he can’t wait to face-time Mark later and tell him that she wouldn’t shut-up about him.

**\--------------------**

Mark is braiding his sister’s hair when Jinyoung calls. Because both hands are busy, Tammy puts the call on speaker and holds the phone over her shoulder so her brother can continue to braid her hair and talk to his friend at the same time. Braids are easy, Mark’s been braiding his sister’s hair his whole life, but she found some stupid complicated braid on Pinterest and this is taking way too long. There are too many strands of hair and his fingers can’t keep up.

 _“You’re a fucking moron.”_ Comes Jinyoung’s voice before anyone even says hello.

Mark rolls his eyes, figuring it’s okay for Tammy to hear this because Jinyoung’s probably just calling to bust his balls about something stupid. He left some dishes in the sink before he left, and since he was the last one to leave, they’ve probably stunk up the kitchen. He’s been thinking about it all Christmas break.

“Yes, tell me something new.” Mark droles.

 _“Oh, I can, I can give you a new reason_ why _you’re a fucking’ moron.”_ He sounds pretty serious, teetering over into hysterical or pissed, but Mark knows it’s all in (hopefully) good fun.

_“I picked Jackson up from the airport and all he did was talk about how awesome his mom is and how much he fucking missed you. And then he started spewing all this, ‘Mark said that sometimes people stray apart, but you know Mark’s been my friend since high school? Senior year. We had homeroom together and the teacher thought it’d be funny to put the two Asian kids together and we didn’t really click because we’re from two different worlds, he was born here and I wasn’t. But anyway, you know that it’s been four years since? Four years and Mark’s still my friend. Isn’t that a long time?”_

“Okay, so he was reminiscing.”

Tammy rolls her eyes. 

_“Oh, my God, his whole fucking face lit up when he heard you liked guys are you dense do you need neon lights do I have to --”_

Mark hangs up and throws the phone to the other side of the bed. The braid starts to look crooked because of his shaking hands. 

Tammy sighs, Mark pointedly tells her, “Not a word.” But as a younger sister, do you think she’s going to listen?

“Jackson’s the guy that talks like he’s got batteries shoved up his ass?”

Mark tries not to laugh, but his nerves are frayed and it’s honestly kind of funny, so he sputters awkwardly and reaches for the hair-tie. 

“Well, I thought he was straight, but if he’s not, he’s hot as fuck and you should go for it.”

Getting dating advice from his younger sister is awkward. She’s not supposed to be insightful and knowledgeable when it comes to dating, she’s supposed to be shy and cute. But hearing it, hearing the support (even though Jinyoung and Youngjae have been very vocal about their support as well) is really really nice. It gives him a courage that he’s not too sure what to do with yet.

Five minutes later though and Mark realises he’s just kidding about the courage.

He’s a wreck.

**\--------------------**

 

They come back together in the apartment in this order: Youngjae on Tuesday, Jinyoung on Friday, Jackson and Mark on Saturday. They have ten days before the next semester starts back up and besides work, they have a whole lot of nothing planned.

Jackson arrives home before Mark. Which is ridiculous, Mark traveled all of four hours by car to see his family, while Jackson went to the other side of the world. Mark should be back by now. Jinyoung kind of side-eyes him when he says Mark’s name for the nth time and Jackson realises how obvious he’s being.

Jackson’s still trying to sort out his feelings, all of this is still new and terrifying. But he knows that he _has_ feelings, that his heart burns up at the thought of Mark and that his fingertips tingle when he feels Mark's skin against his own, even if it's only the briefest and most innocent touch. He knows that this sort of casualness between them, the way they move around each other in the room, the way Mark and he share things, shampoo, cups, sometimes the same plate, the same slice of pizza, means that there's something there. 

It doesn't replace Alison, thinking of her still makes his heart heavy, but he doesn't think of her when he's with Mark. He thinks of Mark. He focuses on Mark, on his blond hair, on the way his bangs curl above his eyelashes, the way his laughter is high and full. 

Jackson's not in rebound mode, he's in too deep.

**\--------------------**

When Mark does show up, dragging a suitcase behind him, bundled up like an Eskimo even though there’s no snow on the ground, Jackson laughs boisterously and pulls Mark’s beanie from his head. It messes up his hair, and his eyes become wide. He’s buried up to his nose with a scarf and his exposed skin is red, whipped by the cold January winds.

Jackson can’t wait until Mark’s taken off his coat and gloves, he pulls him in for a hug. The suitcase handle clatters to the ground at their feet and Mark becomes frozen in the sudden affection.

“I missed you.” Jackson whispers, and Mark’s sweating underneath the layers.

Youngjae appears in the doorway, spots the moment and rolls his eyes. The room reeks of denial and mutual pining. He turns the volume off his phone and snaps a photo to send Jinyoung.

“I missed you, too.” Mark whispers, and Youngjae makes his silent exit then, rolling his eyes even harder.

Jackson pulls away. His smile is enough to melt all the chill off of Mark’s insides. And you know what would be perfect now? A kiss. 

With that thought he steps away and puts distance between them, removing his layers. Jackson chatters about his trip, his family, the food. He misses real Chinese food.

Mark talks about his family, his mom and his sisters. He doesn’t make eye contact, not even once. 

All the changes since Jinyoung outed him are in Mark’s head. Jackson doesn’t let this new fact about his friend change things. He’s totally casual, still best friends, doesn’t even think twice when he changes clothes in front of Mark. 

And Mark likes this. This is _them_. This is all he needs.


	2. Endless

About a week later around the time classes are about to start up, Mark’s getting his things organized for class. He can hear the tempting sounds of an intense game of Mario Kart happening, but does his best to ignore it.

Until Jackson’s running full-throttle into the room, launching himself onto Mark’s bed and making a disaster of all his notebooks and pens. Mark’s shouting and Jackson’s shouting and a binder clatters to the floor. The bed creaks and Jackson’s forehead cracks against Mark’s. There’s a minute where everything blurs and Mark’s too shocked to be angry. Too shocked to even register that he and Jackson just knocked heads until the pain throbs through his skull.

Jackson’s apology is rushed and not very sincere, his snapback somehow seemed to have protected his skull? Or maybe he’s just that hard-headed, Mark muses. Because without a pause, Jackson’s pulling out his cell phone, sprawling out on the space he had emptied of papers and pens when landing on the sheets. 

“You need to see this.”

Mark, still suffering from being rammed in the forehead by thick-headed Jackson, is seeing double. 

“I hate you.”

“Of course you do. Look, look at this video. Yugyeom didn’t appreciate it.”

“Yugyeom’s here?”

“Yep, and his boyfriend. They’re playing Mario Kart with Youngjae.”

Mark glances at Jackson, trying to gage his expression but Jackson’s too focused on what he’s doing. He’s pulling up an app and opening up a video, getting close to Mark and tugging on his sleeve, trying to get him to lie down. Mark does so obediently, blushing as Jackson’s arms wrap around his shoulder, hooking around him to bring them close, super close, and to hold the cell phone in the air before them. 

The forming lump on Mark’s forehead is still sensitive, but Jackson’s cheek is against his temple and Jackson’s arm is underneath him and their legs are crossed at the ankle. This got way too intimate way too quickly. Mark wonders if this is just a new level to their friendship, some weird ass hetero-bro thing that he doesn’t understand. He’s definitely gotten super close to Jinyoung in bed, he’s had Youngjae squeezed between them, legs tangled, but this isn’t the same. This is too casual, too comfortable, and he wonders if this new cozyness is because his orientation’s out in the open and Jackson thinks he’s accommodating; if Jackson really just doesn’t give a fuck and this is their friendship, curled up in bed together.

If only he knew that Jackson is _wanting_ this kind of contact. Still unsure of how sure he is for his feelings, still on the fence, unsure of what’s okay and what’s not, but sure that he wants to be close to Mark.

Jackson plays the video, but Mark’s just too dizzy to focus. 

“You don’t think it’s funny?” 

Mark’s look is incredulous, but Jackson’s too close to receive it. As they turn to look at each other Mark’s nose brushes against Jackson’s lips and he gets so _hot_ so fucking fast that his body jumps. 

“Are you okay?” Jackson pulls away, moving an arm out from underneath Mark, resting on it instead. Their ankles are still crossed, their bodies are touching from shoulder to toe, and Jackson’s hovering, worried.

Mark’s brain shuts down.

He forgets the throbbing from where Jackson head-butted him.

He forgets to swallow and chokes on his own spit.

It’s then that Jackson realises the ugly color in the blond’s hairline. “Oh, God, I hurt you! You’re hurt!” And he’s up and out of bed in seconds. When he comes back with a glass of water and something else wrapped in paper towel, he’s careful. He’s placing the frozen item on Mark’s lump and feeding him the glass of water. 

“Dude, I’m so sorry.” Jackson mumbles, his fingers in Mark’s hair, gaze apologetic. 

“It’s okay.” Mark assures him, soft and vulnerable. With him lying on the bed and Jackson sitting, Jackson’s thumb grazing along the shell of his ear, there’s a silence that fills that room that’s not quite the same as other nights. It’s not the solemn tranquility they share after exhausting, swamped days. It’s different. It’s… unguarded. Open. Warm.

Jackson’s free hand trails over Mark’s cheekbones, the curve of his jaw. His fingers trail over Mark’s collarbones, over his pale skin. 

With a breath caught in his throat and his heart at a stand-still, full of anticipation, Mark watches as Jackson’s gaze lowers, following where his fingers touch. Following the dips and curves of his arms, his collarbones. Goosebumps rise over Mark’s skin, his heart fluttering in his chest, feening for this type of affection. 

It’s so fucking obvious, it’s written all over his face and it’s in his touches. Jackson _wants_ this. Wants this closeness. He’s curious about these types of interactions. He’s curious about even more, his eyes say, as they trail down to Mark’s groin, fingers stopped at the crook of his neck.

Jinyoung asked if Mark would need a neon sign to realise Jackson’s feelings. Well, Jackson’s waving one for him. Mark’s blinded by the sudden onslaught of _feelings_.

Mark’s still a little slow because of his head injury, but he’s going to lean up and kiss Jackson. He’s going to show him that he feels the same way. He’s going to see if those lips taste the way he’s dreamed. He’s going to grab handfuls of Jackson’s thighs, fondle those honey legs. He doesn’t know if Jackson’s just curious about boys in general, or if he’s curious about Mark. But Mark’s fragile heart is suddenly telling him to slow it the fuck down. If Jackson’s only feeling curiosity, then love-struck Mark’s going to suffer. Their relationship is going to fall apart. 

Jinyoung interrupts them right then, carefully peeking into the room. The mood that had curled around, darkly stroking their lust, retreats into the corners of the bedroom. Jackson is fluid in his movements as he pulls his free hand away from Mark’s skin, the goosebumps on Mark’s skin lingering for moments longer.

Whatever that was -- that mood, that feeling, that _pull_ that led Jackson’s ministrations, captivated Mark’s gaze -- is so cleanly snipped. Mark snaps back into here and now and smiles at Jinyoung’s worried gaze so easily that Jinyoung doesn’t even notice that he’s interrupted the start _something._

“I heard that you got assaulted by a madman.”

Mark laughs briefly, a sputter of laughter at the funny accusation because it’s kind of true, Jackson took him down. Jackson immediately rushes to defend himself but Jinyoung just rolls his eyes and swats the dark-haired man away. Mark feels a tug somewhere in chest as the young man leaves his side. But Jinyoung is fussing and inspecting his bruise.

“Normal people look badass when they get a bruise, like they were in a fight or some shit. You, though, Markie, look like a klutz.” 

Mark frowns at him.

Jaebum is in the doorway in a second and Mark’s insides are firing up. When did Jaebum get here? Did Jinyoung invite him? Did Jinyoung take _initiative?_ Is there a possible _thing_ between them? 

Jinyoung catches on too quickly to Mark’s look and just smiles slyly, putting his finger to his lips. They’ll talk about this later.

And, oh, does Mark have things to talk about, too.

“Why’d you think it’d be a good idea to headbutt your hyung?” Jaebum asks the madman in question, crossing his arms.

“But that wasn’t my intention!” Jackson argues. “I didn’t do it on _purpose_ I just wanted to show him a vine! Yugyeom didn’t appreciate it.”

Jinyoung just makes a face and rolls his eyes. “Whatever, Jaebum and I are going out. Don’t hurt yourself even more, okay?”

The word ‘date’ hangs in the air and everyone catches it, Jaebum turns red -- a very deep shade of red. But he doesn’t shy away when Jinyoung takes his hand and pulls him out. 

He also takes all of Mark’s confidence, because when Jackson turns around and barrels back into his bed, narrowly avoiding a knee in the stomach, Mark’s _not_ gonna kiss Jackson. Mark’s probably going to pass out because of overwhelming instead. Especially as Jackson gathers him back up in his arms, getting as close as possible, to show him more vines from this guy.

“I didn’t know JB was into guys.” He mumbles, then turning to his phone and moving on without a hiccup. “This guy is so hilarious, you’re gonna love him.”

Mark nods and tries to focus on the short videos. He’s glad that Jackson’s so chill about Jinyoung and Jaebum.

They stay here for so long, wrapped around each other that eventually they run out of vines. Instead of sliding to another viner, since this is Jackson’s excuse to get this close to Mark, he suggests a movie. It’s first assumed that they’re gonna go to the living room, but Jackson gets his tablet and they lie side by side on the bed, tablet propped up against a pillow.

At some point, between the excitement of his pounding heart and the melancholy of the mood, Mark falls asleep.

\--------------------

At approximately 2am, with the most nauseatingly _happy_ feeling churning in his stomach, paired with Mark’s soft breaths, his presence, and the softness of the darkness, Jackson realises this is _love_. At first he thought he was going to throw up when it dawned on him, a flying sensation that became heavy and frightening, all over his body. If he did end up throwing up, he was sure it’d be a gross mash up of all the rainbows and butterflies in his stomach, because this is both the best and worst feeling of his life. He loves this boy endlessly and he’s aware of this now.

Jackson doesn’t want to move away from Mark so he pulls the blankets over them, having stopped the movie to set the tablet aside. Mark’s body slots against his, their legs cross, and they fall into the same breathing pattern.

Overwhelmed with nervousness, Jackson falls asleep with Mark in his arms.

 

 

Youngjae finds them first, it’s almost nine and Mark’s not one to sleep this late. So he tells Jinyoung, who facetimes Jaebum, takes a photo, and Bambam and Yugyeom take a peak. They have a bet going for when MarkSon finally kiss.

It’s past ten now, Jackson’s warm. He’s protectively got himself wrapped around Mark, who doesn’t give himself the chance to enjoy this. He’s aware of Jackson’s budding feelings but he doesn’t know how to approach them. He slips out of Jackson’s room and into the kitchen.

Jinyoung grins at him, cheeky and full of shit.

“Don’t even.”

“You’re the stupidest mother fucker.”

Mark glares at him, but ignores it. “How’s it going with Jaebum?”

“We’ll talk about that after you tell me how you got into bed with the _straight_ guy.”

“Shit, Jinyoung, it’s not like we _did_ anything.”

What started as playful bantering takes a quick turn for the worse. Mark crumples in his friend’s arms, doing his best not to cry.

“Why are you sad? This is a good thing.”

“I’m just… scared. I don’t think he’s ever been with a guy but I’m getting… vibes from him. And now he’s getting over a break-up and I don’t know if I can...”

“Don’t know if you can what? You’re not a replacement. You can see that, right? He’s so over Alison.”

\--------------------

“Spring break!” Jackson yells, climbing into Mark’s bed like he does all the time now. Mark’s sitting across his bed, tired from a long shift at work, scrolling through Twitter absently.

“Spring break? Why are you talking about spring break when the spring semester starts _tomorrow._ ”

“Yeah, but…” Jackson sits up suddenly, cross-legged and facing his roommate. He’s impossibly cute. Mark doesn’t let it outwardly show just how much Jackson’s pout kills him. “I got a full refund for Alison and mine’s trip to the Grand Canyon. So now I’ve got all this money that she’s not getting a single fucking _dime_ to, but I still wanna do something. I wanna, um, how about we take a vacation?”

Mark shuts down so fast his vision blackens for a moment.

“You wanna take a vacation? The two of us?”

There’s a moment where Jackson’s about to back out. Stark fear of rejection passes through his features. He could invite the others, make a group thing out of it, but he doesn’t want to. He sets his jaw, sets his expression, and nods. He’s going to do this properly.

“Yeah.”

 _Because you’re my best friend_ would maybe relieve some of the pressure, but Jackson’s not looking to relieve the pressure. He’s trying to make a point.

“Oh, um, where would we even go?”

“I don’t know, anywhere within my budget?”

“You’re _not_ paying for the whole thing.”

“Of course I am! I have the money.”

“You should put some of it away, save up.” Mark argues, looking anywhere but Jackson’s intense stare. “I can pay for my half.”

“No. I want to take you somewhere.” Jackson says.

Mark stares at him and bites his lip, nodding.

In the end, Jackson doesn’t make his confession. But his point has gone across vividly.

\--------------------

“So you’re taking a romantic getaway but you haven’t taken him out on a date yet?” Youngjae leans over the counter, staring holes into Jackson’s skull. Jackson hasn’t actually voiced his feelings but everyone’s picked up on it. Youngjae grins when Jackson doesn’t object to the words ‘romantic’ or ‘date’. He’s saying that he likes Mark without using those actual words and Youngjae picks up on it without a hitch.

“It’s not… _romantic_. It’s Washington D.C.”

“It’s on the other side of the continent, just you two. Just you two, eating together, sleeping together in a hotel, taking pictures together. Sounds romantic.”

Jackson taps nervously on his laptop, not pressing the buttons. The numbers in front of him are making him a hundred times more nervous than he had imagined they would.

Jinyoung enters, peering over Jackson’s shoulder. He’s already teased Mark relentlessly about this and it’s now Jackson’s turn. “Oh, look, the Standard one-bed King rooms are cheaper than the Standard with two beds.”

“It’s only _practical_.” Youngjae teases, his laugh loud and shrill.

Jackson isn’t sure what made him search hotel prices in the kitchen, but he’s regretting it.

 

Later, when Mark gets home from classes and he’s being shown the hotel options, Mark does a great job of keeping his elated heart in his chest when Jackson tells him a one bed would be cheaper than a two bed. The hotel prices are outrageous and Mark feels sick when he notices the price differences. 

“Well, you’ve already spent a few nights in my bed. What’s a week for vacation?”

Their eyes lock over the screen. 

“Besides,” Mark clears his throat. “We need to save money wherever we can.”

They’re too far away to kiss, and Mark pulls away before he can’t ignore the pull anymore.

\--------------------

Bambam and Jinyoung lean forward to invade their romantically frustrated roommate’s personal bubble.

“Why the fuck haven’t you kissed him yet?” Jinyoung chastises, truly frustrated.

“Seriously, _I’m_ dying over here.” Bambam shakes his head, swatting away his boyfriend when Yugyeom tells him to stop teasing.

Mark’s eyes flash over Jinyoung’s shoulder to Jaebum, asking for some sympathy. Jaebum sighs deeply and saves Mark, grabbing his boyfriend by the collar and pulling him into his lap. Jinyoung’s momentarily appeased.

Mark’s not though. Mark would rather never leave his room than deal with his feelings for Jackson.

\--------------------

When Jackson gives his mother an update, there’s a long, _long_ pause on the other end of the line.

_“Oh, honey, please tell me you’re not this dense.”_

“Dense?! Who’s dense?!”

 _“Mark likes boys.”_ As if they haven’t already had this conversation.

“I know.He likes me.” Jackson says, feeling awkward saying it outloud, but that’s what she had been getting at. He rolls his shoulders awkwardly and twists his snapback so it’s front-facing, shielding his eyes and face from the no one on the room.

_“Then why are you doing this?”_

“Mom… I… I like him, too.”

If she could accept Mark without a second thought, she would accept her own son, too, right? 

Jackson suddenly wishes that Mark were beside him.

_“Oh, honey, I know. And I love you.”_

Jackson buries his face in his hand and she gently assures him that even from the other side of the world, she’s always by his side.

 

\--------------------

“Dude, are you excited for the trip?” Jackson’s full of toddler-like excitement, bouncing into the kitchen where Mark balances an essay and dinner. “Because I’m fucking _stoked._ ”

“I have a ten-page paper due for my Life and Development class.” Mark waves his notebook in the air. “It’s due the day we get back from break.”

Jackson settles next to him, smiling at the redness that’s brushed on his cheeks. “I can help. You’ve still got two weeks until spring break.”

Mark’s frazzled. His hair hasn’t been washed in three days and he hasn’t had a proper meal all day. Jackson decides to make him a cup of coffee despite it being dinnertime. Mark’s susceptible to caffeine and this is both a good and bad idea. He’ll get the focus he needs, but he won’t sleep tonight. Jackson’s prepared to deal with a hyper Mark.

A small break isn’t a bad idea, and as the coffee finishes brewing, as Jackson’s grabbing creamer and sugar, making Mark’s coffee the same way he always has, Mark sits on the counter near where caffeine magic is brewing. He’s feeling the effects through smell alone.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” 

Jackson laughs, “Nope.”

“I’m never gonna sleep.”

Jackson finishes stirring the coffee and thrusts the cup in the older male’s face, careful to not stain his clothes with the hot liquid. Mark laughs and takes a tentative sip, placing the cup on the counter. 

“It’s perfect.”

“I know! I know what you like, Mark.”

They’re close, casually close, Jackson leaning against the counter Mark sits on. Chatting, laughing, getting closer until Mark’s arm is around Jackson’s shoulders and Jackson is situated between his knees.

“Can I tell you something? I wanna tell you something.” Jackson says suddenly, breaking the other’s laughter.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“I wanna kiss you.”

Mark immediately retracts his hands, nearly knocking the coffee cup off the counter. 

“You want to _what?_ ”

“I like you.”

 

Mark’s swayed, both by the confession and by the suddenness of it. The abrasive way Jackson confesses his feelings, like he hasn’t rehearsed this and he’s just awkwardly gushing.

Which is exactly what’s happening. Jackson hasn’t practised this. He hasn’t had time to think about it. He’s speaking, his heart bursting, his hands shaking and his head a mess, no matter what his expression says. He’s waited too long to do this, he’s sat on his feelings for way too fucking long, mulling over them until he couldn’t hide it anymore. He knows Mark knows. He knows everyone fuckin’ knows. And he’s just as sick and tired as everyone else is, ready to move forward.

Until the mess comes tumbling from him, “And I don’t wanna make things weird but I think you like me too and I should probably say something before we run away for a week to the other side of the country. Because I’ve been dreaming about kissing you in front of the monuments, and taking you on dates.” He stops himself there, coming to a skidding halt. “I really like you, Mark. I want to date you. I want you to be my boyfriend. I wanna make this official.”

Mark’s stunned, to say the least. He hadn’t wanted to push himself onto Jackson, forcing his own desires onto the other boy in case there was something that he’d missed. The crush was clear in every way, the way Jackson looked at him and acted towards him, Mark knew that Jackson had feelings for him. But he didn’t know how much Jackson had accepted it, if he was willing to accept it, and what stage of acceptance he was on. Mark was there for Jackson, he’d always be, for anything, but he knew there were boundaries and he did what he could to respect them. He did what he could to make this as easy as possible for Jackson, even shying away when Mark so desperately wanted to kiss him.

But now it’s all out on the open. So he slides from where he’s sitting, squeezing his way between Jackson’s tight thighs and the counter. It’s closer than they’ve ever been, even when lying together under the blankets. Mark can take the step he wants into the direction he wants to, with Jackson.

The buckle of Jackson’s belt slides against Mark’s thigh, leaving a sting where it rubs. Mark accidentally lands his feet over Jackson’s, and while they’re trying to correct their stance, Mark cups Jackson’s face with his hands and kisses him.

He’s avoided this for too long, pretended that this wasn’t real and now it’s finally time to embrace it. So he jumps right the fuck into this, submerging himself in the kiss, drowning in Jackson’s lips, his strong arms. It starts out strong, passionate, full of desire from the beginning, Mark’s feelings coming through strongly. It startles Jackson; the fire, the resolve and intent, he isn’t sure he can match it.

His body reacts accordingly, palms fitting over Mark’s hips. Mark’s arms snake around his shoulders, bringing them closer. 

Mark’s kisses are met with much enthusiasm. Jackson’s mind blanks, a clean sheet as he focuses on Mark’s lips, the smoothness of his bottom lip. He licks it, sucks on it, and finally bites on it, tugging. Mark’s responses are _delightful_ against him. His body shivers, he _moans_. There’s a moment where Mark’s lips open and Jackson doesn’t waste another moment, taking whatever the other’s willing to give.

Their tongues meet, heavy and slick, and Jackson groans, getting closer, pressing Mark’s lower back into the ridge of the counter. One of his hands grips the counter for purchase, he’s looking for an anchor, something to remind him where he is. Something tangible, because Mark’s like a fucking dream right now.

Then Mark’s hand covers his on the counter. Then Mark fucking _whimpers_ , soft and needy, against Jackson’s tongue. Jackson swallows the vibrations and pulls away. 

Their bodies have slid into the corner, Mark pinned between the granite and Jackson’s hips. The elder boy removes his hand from Jackson’s, instead curling his fingers around his ear, into his hair. 

The sight of Mark’s lips twitching into a smirk, wet and red, freshly worshiped, gives Jackson the most wonderful thrill down his spine, into his stomach. 

Mark leans forward for another kiss, heavy with a sigh, with restraint.

“Why’d you wait so long?”

Jackson’s hands slide down Mark’s side, around his thighs. “I’m so sorry I did.”

“So this is okay?” Mark traces Jackson’s ear with one hand, his arm with another.

“This is -- yeah, this is great.”

They kiss again, heady, full of tongue and teeth. 

Mark can feel the way Jackson feels for him, all for him, only for him.

And then he’s sliding his legs open, Jackson’s falling into place between them, and Mark tugs on the hem of Jackson’s sweater, groaning wantonly.

It’s such an odd contrast to the normally shy older boy that Jackson’s feeling surprise. He’s entranced by the shape of Mark’s swollen lips, the lust in his hooded eyes, the curve of his neck. But it’s a step too far from where he’s comfortable.

Mark gets it though, whispering, “Just kiss me.”

That, Jackson decides, is a good fucking idea. The husk and want in Mark’s voice is too hard to deny, anyway.

And they make-out against the kitchen counter, hips dangerously close, pressure in all the right and risky areas. But it’s been a long time coming, and they’re going to enjoy this -- enjoy each other.

\--------------------

Travel is a blur. Mark hasn’t flown often enough to know what’s going on so Jackson leads the way, holding his hand throughout the flight and travel even when their palms get grossly sweaty. When they make it to the hotel they’re pumped with excitement, still high from travel and the excitement of being in a new city on the other side of the country. The difference in timezones, even though it isn’t much, confuses their bodies but doesn’t register until later. They go out for dinner and then right back to the tidy hotel room to pass the fuck out.

Jackson wakes up on his first official day of vacation to kisses up and down his shoulder. Slow, lazy, early morning kisses. The sun peeks through the blinds, telling them of the beautiful day ahead. 

When Jackson opens his eyes and looks down at Mark, those beautiful, crescent eyes filled with adoration. That smile of his, full of life. His hands, slender fingers and soft skin, gently brushing up and down his thigh in an innocent manner. Jackson smiles back, lost in the sunshine radiating off of Mark, and couldn’t care less about what’s waiting for him behind the blinds. He couldn’t care less about the city that he’s traveled eight hours for. It’s silent in the hotel, the neighbors aren’t bothering them. There’s no Jinyoung here to tease, no Yugyeom shouting on the other side of the door.

Mark’s eyes flutter shut as Jackson rolls on his side to hold him, placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

“G’mornin’.”

Mark hums contently against his lips. “Morning.”

Jackson glances at the closed window, “Do you wanna go and get breakfast?”

“Not right now, nope.”

Mark’s soft in his arms but demanding with his kisses. They’re so addicting. So much so that Jackson doesn’t even care about the morning breath that Mark laughs and shies away from. They get up to brush their teeth, something that hasn’t changed since forever, until their mouths are rinsed and Mark’s grabbing Jackson by the hem of his shirt, pulling their bodies close and bringing their lips together.

Jackson _really_ loves this hands-y, mushy side of Mark. He’s so attentive, so touchy, always orbiting around Jackson with his hands lingering, smiles radiating, gaze unwavering. Jackson wishes he could say the same about himself, he knows that sometimes his energy takes him to the other side of the room, or that he’ll get close to anyone at his side, but even when he’s across the room he’s looking at Mark. And Mark’s usually smiling back. And that’s one of the things that shows him that this is something solid. They’re two separate people loving and understanding each other. They both want and need each other. Alison was much more dependent.

Also, this super horny vibe that Mark gives off kind of makes Jackson insane. The way he bites his lips, the way he cranes his neck for a kiss. Even the way he fuckin’ closes his eyes before leaning in, how his eyes drop from Jackson’s eyes to his lips, the way his hands always pull him closer, sometimes faltering and squeezing whatever body part they land on. Jackson hadn’t been expecting it but _fuck_ he likes it.

They break away and Mark tugs on Jackson’s lip. He continues without hesitation down Jackson’s jaw, to his ear. The brunet closes his eyes and lulls his head back. 

Mark’s hands travel from Jackson’s firm ass to his front. There’s a pause, he’s letting Jackson know what he wants, crooking his fingers along his waistband. Jackson’s not complaining, so the elder rubs his palms through Jackson’s pajama pants. The noise that Jackson makes is embarrassing. It’s actually kind of really embarrassing. 

Mark’s voice is deeply tuned, “Let’s get back to bed.”

Jackson yanks him out of the bathroom, pulling him towards the bed and getting on top. He appreciates the way Mark barely pauses, hooking an elbow around his neck to rear him in for kisses, long and languid, and reaches into Jackson’s boxers with his other hand.

Just the noises that Jackson makes, guttural and heavy, is enough to have Mark uncomfortably tight in his boxers. He pushes Jackson away to pull off his shirt and his pants, and do to the same for himself. They’re still in their boxer briefs but there’s much better access now. Mark can see more of Jackson, touch more of him, kiss more of him. Jackson meets those ministrations as best he can, but Mark’s pushing his shoulders and forcing him to lie down against the mattress. Jackson’s surprised by the domination, but immediately shuts the fuck up when Mark’s between his legs, kissing him through his boxers.

“Oh, oh God. _Oh_ , God.”

Mark winces when his hair is tugged too hard on, but doesn’t utter a single complaint as Jackson writhes in pleasure. 

“‘Mark’ is just fine, thanks though.”

Jackson manages a pathetic slap on his head and Mark just laughs at it. Then he’s right back to busying himself, mouthing Jackson’s erection through cotton fabric. He’s heavy and hot and Mark’s never wanted to actually give head before. He pulls off Jackson’s boxers, who automatically lifts his hips when prompted.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“Mark Tuan, are you stupid? Why would I want that?” He’s panting and he sounds a little delirious. 

Kneeling on the ground gives him a good angle and Jackson’s nearly sobbing by the time Mark’s mouth his around his dick. He has one leg thrown over Mark’s shoulder and the other on the mattress, widening his legs as Mark works between them. It’s been so, so, so, _so_ , fucking long for Jackson that just Mark’s warm breath is enough to push him close. So you can fucking forget it when the head of his erection bumps against the back of Mark’s throat. He should probably be concerned when Mark chokes, sputtering awkwardly even though he doesn’t waste anytime, not stopping despite the discomfort. Jackson’s groans and tugs on the blond’s hair, hot because Mark’s so intent on working him to his climax. He chokes again as Jackson slides into his throat and that’s it. Jackson’s done.

Mark isn’t that experienced with this and Jackson’s too incoherent to give him a rating. Just a lazy thumbs up after he’s finished inside Mark’s mouth (and cheek, his orgasm had come as a surprise for both of them.)

“Shit, dude, I’m so sorry I woulda warned ya but --”

“Don’t ‘dude’ me after I’ve sucked your dick.” Mark replies, moving up to curl into Jackson’s arms.

And Jackson laughs at that. “Sorry, du-- Mark. Sorry, Markie.”

Ideally, they could lie in bed all day. But Mark’s face is sticky. Jackson meets him in him the bathroom after taking a few much-needed minutes to gather his courage and resolve and composure. Mark’s drying his face with a towel when Jackson enters, pushes him against the counter and sinks to his knees.

“You don’t have to --”

“Shut up, I’m already nervous enough.”

Mark feels guilty until Jackson’s licking the head of his dick, eyes full of first-time wonder.

\--------------------

 

This trip is full of firsts for them. First trip to the east coast, first candle-lit dinner, first real date. It’s the first time they hold hands in public; the first time they kiss (it’s just a peck) in public. It’s the first time they go to a Starbucks together, the first time they go out for waffles for breakfast. The first time they shower together. (And that’s nothing like what Jackson would’ve imagined it to be. He imagined sex but Mark’s too cute and scrubs between Jackson’s toes for him.) They take a bath one night, too, overloading the tub with bubbles. They make bubble-beards. 

It’s a lot for Jackson, as well. He’s here in the present, unwrapping pieces of Mark as they go to monuments, museums and everything in between. They take a tour bus and take thousands of stupid photos. There’s a load of photos of a pigeon on the sidewalk because Mark thought it was the cutest thing that it didn’t fly away when he got too close to it. There’s a thousand pictures of them -- kissing, holding hands, walking down the sidewalk. They take pictures of their food, and Mark points his camera in Jackson’s direction all too often. Jackson’s always been secretly into guys, never mentioned it to anyone but also never got a chance to try being with another guy. And now he’s with Mark and Mark’s so wonderful, because being with him, holding his hand, kissing him, touching his hair. Jackson’s hopelessly in love. Mark’s hopelessly in love. 

It’s the first time they go to a bar and get shitfaced together, it’s the almost-first first time they have sex. Mark makes the drunken decision that this is _not_ how he wants their first time to be, so they sloppily get each other off and pass out in each other’s arms.

On Friday night, their second to last night in D.C, they order wine and don’t even get near tipsy before Jackson’s kissing Mark. He’s climbing into his lap and with his heart in his throat, Jackson tells Mark he’s the most handsome man on the planet.

“That’s a bit of a stretch.”

“Nope, it’s definitely not. You’re the most handsome, the handsomest --”

“Are you drunk? You had like, two sips of wine.”

Jackson frowns. “Will you shut the fuck up and kiss me?”

Mark’s giggles are cut off when Jackson leans in to take what he’s looking for. Mark drapes himself over the brunet and responds eagerly.

Mark’s usually so composed, so put together, so calm. So watching the way his face twists in pleasure, giving in to Jackson’s hands, lips -- becoming undone, thrills Jackson. He had never expected Mark to be this eager, and he’ll say it over and over again, but he _loves_ it. 

At times, Jackson feels like he does all the pushing; getting Mark out of the house can be a headache. Mark’s usually so nonchalant about where to eat, where to go, Jackson always takes the reigns on those. Mark will eat anything, anyway. Usually enjoys everything. But Mark’s not like that in bed, he gives just as much as he takes. He responds and initiates as he pleases. Jackson feels fire underneath his skin whenever Mark as so much kisses him.

Jackson has Mark’s legs perched around his waist, hips rocking and bellies wet with precum, Jackson’s worried about where this is going, if it’s going there too fast, because even though Mark’s trying to be cautious, Jackson’s ready for this.

“Hey,” Mark’s voice is husky and sparks down the brunet’s spine. “There’s lube and condoms in the suitcase.”

“So you planned this? I’m flattered, first time away and you’re covering all the bases.” Jackson mouths at his neck.

“No, no,” The reply is too quick and Mark’s swatting at him. “Jinyoung and Youngjae shoved it in my bag before we left. And Bambam’s texted me every day asking if we’ve gone through it yet.”

Jackson chuckles, lips vibrating against Mark’s pale neck. “Does he want video proof?”

Mark slaps him again, half-heartedly pushing him off. “Stop joking. Can you just grab the stuff?”

When Jackson’s sliding back into bed, he’s grinning. “I’ve got the goods.”

Mark glares furiously at him. “Do you wanna get laid or not?”

“I don’t wanna get laid, I wanna make love.”

And it sounds so sincere, Mark visibly melts and his cheeks turn pink. He doesn’t have a reply for that, cheesiness aside, and Jackson’s happy for the kisses he earns when Mark’s too flustered to say anything.

\--------------------

 

On the plane ride home, Mark takes a bold leap and leans over in the middle of early-morning drowsiness, whispering, “I love you.”

Jackson grins at him and tightens the grip he has on Mark’s hand.

“I love you so, so much.” He says, kissing his boyfriend’s temple.

They stare out the oval window, the airplane humming around them, the gross filtered air is chilly against their skin but it’s not feeling stuffy. The sun’s rising now over the horizon, an orange and pink haze dusts the inside of the plane, a calmness over even the children in the cabin. And the world looks boundless from where Jackson and Mark are, cruising above it all. 

Mark leans into Jackson’s chest, curling the younger male around his shoulders.

Together they watch the sunrise, the dawn of a new forever spread out endlessly before them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was my first markson/first got7! and hopefully it won't be the last. shoutout to everyone that wanted me to write this. and come say hi to me on twitter! https://twitter.com/magalix3


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